


Sunshower

by MercuryPilgrim



Series: For the Sky [3]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Accidental Voyeurism, Adorkable, Angst, Cute, Fluff, Fluff-fluff-smut-humour-angst-fluff, M/M, Smut, Snippets, Standalone, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-10-11 17:30:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17451281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MercuryPilgrim/pseuds/MercuryPilgrim
Summary: Five kisses Vette witnesses between the Warrior and the Captain, and one she doesn't.





	1. Domestic

**Author's Note:**

> These are part of the For The Sky verse, although are not directly tied in and you do not need to read FTS to understand them.
> 
> Also, I haven't actually finished FTS yet (or even got to the romance), but I wanted to write some fluff for my favourite SWTOR ship.

Vette had been intending on sneaking into the galley for a snack before bed, but she found that her way was blocked.

It was late and only Broonmark and the droid were up, manning the ship as the rest of the crew bedded down. Or, so she had thought.

  
Two people were clearly still awake and working, although considering one of them was Ven’fir, it was, more likely that one was working and the other was being a distraction. Indeed, she felt oddly voyeuristic as she saw Quinn, practically lounging on one of the long couches, holo-pads and reports scattered around him. He looked tired and oddly soft, his usual immaculate appearance rumpled and sleepy. He yawned, and one pale hand covered his mouth as he did so. His uniform jacket was slung over the arm of the couch he had commandeered, and his simple, long sleeved dark undershirt made him look less uptight.

  
She saw Ven’fir amble back from the galley with half a sandwich in one hand, dressed way down in a loose shirt and stretchy, too tight pants. The Sith smiled fondly as he came up behind the officer, who was sighing irritably and trying to find something in the mess.

  
Ven’fir leaned over his shoulder, peering. “Dear Force, that looks boring.” He commented, squinting. “Malavai, is this really what you’ve been working on all evening? This is as dull as a Jedi.”

  
The officer frowned and twisted to look over his shoulder at the man leaning on the back of the couch, reading the reports with a disgusted expression.

  
“Dull it may be,” the officer began, his tone clipped. “It needs doing. I don’t see anyone else stepping up to make sure we all still get paid on time.” he asked, snappy.

  
Ven’fir sighed. “Alright.” He murmured and smiled at Malavai's surprised expression. “You enjoy your expense reports.” He snorted as he straightened. “I’m going to bed.”

  
The Sith paused, and when no reaction came from the officer, he sighed. “I was hoping you would join me.”

  
Vette knew, logically, that they were in a relationship (which was by far one of the strangest things she had seen, and that was saying something). She just couldn’t picture it, couldn’t wrap her mind around the two of them being… together. Romantically. At all. Quinn was a private person, she knew, and did not like public affection. Or hugs. Or jokes, or anything messing up his hair. Or fun.

  
Ven’fir however, could best be described as the walking, talking definition of an over-share. Still, the Sith could be touchy-feely with everyone, and that hadn’t decreased now he had shacked up with the Captain.

  
Vette grimaced. That was so weird and so… unnatural.

  
The officer softened, his blue eyes gentle. “I… I should get some rest,” he agreed quietly. “You’re right.”

  
Ven’fir grinned, the expression endearing like a nexu kitten. “It had to happen one day,” he said cheerily.  
Quinn chuckled softly, and Vette almost gave herself away in her shock.

  
“Let me tidy this away, and I’ll join you?” The human offered, and Ven’fir nodded, tender. He lent down and met the officer in a soft, affectionate kiss, surprisingly chaste and sweet. Vette felt herself swallow, and something fluttered in her belly. That was… cute. Adorable, even.

  
The Sith pulled away first, and Vette saw how the human seemed to chase his mouth as he did so. Quinn’s cheeks were faintly pink, but he gave a tired, soft smile. “Go on,” he shooed gently. “Before I enlist you to do your own expense reports.”

  
Ven’fir laughed, low and warm. “Anything but that,” he murmured, one hand trailing lazily in his lovers’ hair. Quinn let out a sigh, and he seemed to shiver, enjoying the attention.

“Don’t take too long,” Ven’fir muttered, and drew himself away, heading for his quarters.

  
Vette watched the Sith, before her eyes turned back onto the officer who also watched him go, his expression tired and fond, looking softer than Vette had ever seen him. Storm blue eyes lingered on the door, before the human yawned again and turned his attention back to his reports, intent on filing them away for the morning.

  
Vette stole away, her belly fluttering and her breathing quick and shallow. She realised she was smiling hard enough to ache her cheeks, and she bit her lip as she threw herself onto her bed and wrapped herself in blankets. That wobbly, funny feeling in her stomach wasn’t going away, and she resigned herself to the fact that she found the Sith and the officer to be adorable together.

  
Dammit.


	2. Sleepy

“You go!”

  
“Me? You should be the one to go."

  
Vette crossed her arms and levelled a look at Jaesa, her friend looking just as stubborn. They were outside Ven'fir's quarters, just off the main communal area of the ship. It was very early morning, and Vette and Jaesa had been assigned to bring the Fury into dock at Vaiken space station on arrival.

  
That had been the plan until they had misplaced the authorisation codes, handily transcribed by Captain Quinn with a stern warning to never let them out of their sight.

  
Jaesa brushed hair from her face. “You were the one who lost the datapad.” She pointed out. “He told you the codes were on there.”

  
Vette scowled. “I wouldn’t have lost it if you hadn’t come in and distracted me.” She muttered.

The Twi'lek sighed; arguing with Jaesa was mostly fruitless as she could never match Jedi composure.

“Look, I don’t want to either get chewed out because I lost the thing I was told not to lose, or see any bits that I don’t want to see.” She said frankly, and admired how Jaesa’s cheeks went pink as she realised what Vette was talking about.

  
“Neither do I.” The young Force-user admitted, biting her lip. “We could go together?”

  
Vette threw her hands up, a little annoyed. “Sure, fine.” She grunted. “If I get a force-choke to the face, I’m gonna be so mad.”

  
Vette listened as the door and heard only silence. She shrugged. “No noise yet. Maybe they’re not furiously boning after all?”

  
Jaesa blushed a deeper pink.

  
Vette knocked.

  
Nothing.

  
She knocked again, and listened.

  
Still nothing.

  
Getting impatient, she decided to risk her sanity and just open the door.

  
Ven'fir rarely bothered to lock it, and she was suddenly very grateful.

  
She peered in, curious despite herself.

  
The lights were off and the room was dark, a large lump on the bed looking at odds with the clean lines of the rest of the room.

  
She gently turned up the lights, brining them up to half light so she didn’t fall over. She looked at the bed again, and melted.

  
“Aww,” she murmured. “That’s kriffing cute.”  
Jaesa looked in and from the look of soft delight on her face, she thought the same.

  
The couple were obviously deeply asleep, something she would have expected from Ven’fir but not the Captain.

  
The two were cuddling, the Sith sprawled out on his back with his head turned away from her as he slept. One green skinned arm was thrown around the shoulder of his bed companion, who was curled up to his side, his nose buried in the crook of the Sith’s neck. Their dark hair was contrasting against white pillows, and Vette could spot definite flecks of silver at the Captain's temples.

  
Quinn had one arm over his partners chest, his hand curled softly at his lovers other shoulder. He was pressed very close, the sheets draped over him. The shirt he wore to sleep was soft and tight and stretchy, and Vette tried very hard not to admire the lines of him in it.

  
Ven'fir, unsurprisingly, slept without a shirt on, and Vette had just as much of a hard time keeping her eyes off the tempting expanses of toned flesh that were on display. The Sith was bulkier than his Captain, but the two were similar enough in stature to take up the same amount of space in the big bed.

  
Vette snuck a look at Jaesa and snorted softly. The young Force-user was blushing pink and looking smitten. The young Jedi let out an audible ‘awww'.  
Quinn shifted at the noise, or perhaps it was the light, but Vette saw his brow furrow slightly as he curled in closer to the other occupant of the bed. Ven’fir, however, twitched and his eyelashes fluttered, and she saw his body come out of its relaxed, boneless state.

  
“Ven’fir,” she hissed, peering at him. “Wake up.”  
The Sith grunted and opened his eyes, squinting and looking at them blearily. Amber irises glowed faintly in the gloom.

  
“V'tte?” He mumbled. “The f'ck you doin'?”

  
Vette frowned.

  
“Landing codes for Vaiken. Gimme.” She whispered harshly.

  
Ven’fir just blinked at her and she groaned. “Come on, you big lug.” She grunted, “Wake that brain up.”  
Ven’fir blinked again and waved over to his desk, where, to her utmost annoyance, was the datapad she had been looking for.

  
“He took it.” She sighed. “Ven’fir, you idiot.”

  
She crossed over the room and snatched up the pad, and had almost made it to the door when she heard the Captain waking up. She winced.

  
He would be worse to deal with than the Sith.  
Ven’fir would be grumpy for about ten minutes, before he would go looking for caf and food and be reminded that there was good in the galaxy, even if it was just in the form of breakfast.

  
Quinn would be prickly and sharp all day, his feathers well and truly ruffled as he tried not to fret about the bags under his eyes.

  
“Ven?” she heard Quinn mutter sleepily, and it was not cute how she saw him reaching for his lover the moment he woke. He was so different from when he was on duty, which was every moment he was awake. It was fascinating to see him look so normal.  
She couldn’t help but look when she saw Ven’fir turn his attention to his partner, one green skinned hand coming up to smooth sleep rumpled hair, murmuring soothing nothings into his ear. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the top of his head, sweet and soft. Quinn’s eyelashes fluttered against pale cheeks and he curled closer to the warm body next to him, obviously not fully awake yet.

  
Vette felt like she was intruding, and made to leave, dragging a staring Jaesa with her. Ven’fir waved her away before turning back to what he was doing, effectively dismissing her.

  
Her heart felt painfully swollen as she and Jaesa headed for the cockpit, the Twi'lek dragging the young Jedi by the hand.

  
Jaesa was pink cheeked and quiet as they collapsed into chairs, and she stole a quick look at Vette.

  
“Is... is that what love is?” she asked shyly. “I didn’t know it was so... soft.” She tilted her head. “The Order teaches us that love is dangerous and wild, unable to be contained and leading to bad choices and selfishness.” She looked away.

  
Vette shrugged, breathing out a long breath. She was sprawled in her chair, fingers absently tapping out the codes onto the terminal. “I guess? I’ve not ever been in love like that.” She admitted easily. “I... I never imagined they could be so cute together, if I’m honest.”

  
Jaesa nodded, mind elsewhere. “I’m happy for them.” She announced, eyes shining with something lovely and alive.

  
Vette gave a tired grin, stomach fluttering. “Yeah. So am I.”


	3. Hot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the smutty one. Faint spoils for some For The Sky stuff that isn't out yet, but it won't ruin anything for you or whatever.

Vette had never been much a believer in organised religion, much less any school of thought that told her she ought to be good or she would pay for it later when she was dead. It had always sounded like something parents said to make naughty children shut up and be quiet, only it was adults holding their tongues and behaving. Now however, she felt like repenting until her dying breath, because she was damn sure she wasn’t going anywhere nice after _this_.

She was also sure she had never seen Malavai Quinn look so… undignified. His pale skin was flushed, and a fine sheen of perspiration threw the swells and dips of the male body into shining relief against the dim cabin lights.

There was more skin on display than she had ever seen from him, which was surprising considering they lived in a small ship and shared quarters. Bare to his hips, his jacket and undershirt were strewn over the floor, and his uniform pants were hanging dangerously low, his belt pointedly hooked over one of the struts of the headboard. Her mouth felt dry. He wasn’t nearly so aloof and reserved _under_ that uniform. His back was arched, his head tipped back to bare his throat. His eyes were closed, and he was biting his lip, one hand reaching back up and behind him to wind in the hair of the man behind him, who was laying kisses and bites on the pale skin of his neck.

Kneeling almost provocatively on the bed, his chest heaved as he all but panted from the attention, and Vette could see a green skinned hand at his hip, fiddling with the fastening of his pants. Another hand was running green fingers over his skin, seemingly content just to touch even as he rested his chin on his lovers’ shoulder, pulling the human so his back was flush with the Sith’s chest. He was lean and pale, toned flesh more practical than aesthetic. A faint trail of dark hair ran from his navel to under the hem of his uniform pants, and his skin shone like it had been polished.

Ven’fir was engrossed in his task, and Vette could see how lust-fogged his half-lidded eyes seemed as he suckled on a bite mark, making the Imperial in his arms hitch a breath. The Sith grinned, and it was fond and wicked at the same time. He whispered something unintelligible to his lover, his mouth brushing the shell of the human’s ear. The human’s eyes opened, and the blue was shadowed and hazy. He replied, his tone breathy and too muted for Vette to make out. Ven’fir laughed lowly, and the hand that had been exploring came up to wind in his lover’s hair, dark strands standing in soft damp spikes that made him look shameless and debauched. With affection, he roughly pulled the human back by his hair, leaning forward to meet in a messy kiss over his shoulder. Quinn went easily, melting back against the solid form behind him and kissing back with more fervour than Vette would have thought him capable of.

Her eyes felt dry from not blinking enough, as though that nanosecond her eyes were closed would make her miss something. Her mouth felt parched, and when she shifted her hips slightly, she noticed her body had much less shame about enjoying this than her mind did.

The kiss was broken when Quinn moved his hand down to cover the green one fumbling with his trousers. With a small smile she wouldn’t have expected, he tangled his fingers with Ven’fir’s own, and pulled the hand away. The Sith frowned and made to speak, but the Imperial twisted in his hold and pushed him back just hard enough to be surprising. The Mirialan let himself fall back onto the bed, unspeakably dangerous even as he lay in a sprawl, his sulphur yellow eyes hooded as he watched his lover settle over him, straddling his hips and shifting just a little too much to be accidental. At his raised eyebrow, Quinn flushed pink and leaned down to kiss him, neatly cutting off whatever teasing, smart remark was going to follow.

Vette stared, her eyes settling on how Imperial issue officer’s pants stretched so nicely over their owners behind as he straddled his commanding officer. Lean, subtle muscle ran from his shoulders to his hips, the valley of his back thrown into relief by the cabin lights, and Vette found that she enjoyed looking at his back just as much as his front. Ven’fir hands came to rest on Quinn’s waist as they shared heated kisses. The human wriggled a little in his grasp, ticklish, and the Sith twitched, growling into his lover’s mouth. The hands resting on a pale waist quickly relocated to his lover’s backside, grabbing two generous handfuls and squeezing just a little too roughly to be tender. The Imperial jumped and flushed, muttering something sharp and uncomplimentary, to which the Sith just laughed and did it again.

Vette was fascinated by the line between roughness and affection that they seemed to walk so closely.

Ven’fir seemed ready to rip the last of the clothing off the man in his bed, as he fumbled with the fastenings. In his haste to divest the Captain of his clothing, he made the man laugh breathlessly, and Quinn took pity on his lover and moved so that he could remove his clothes himself. Now clad only in his underclothes, Vette felt herself reluctantly praising the Imperial geneticists, for producing results like _that_.

She pondered if they had designed him to be pretty, or if that was natural. She supposed that it really didn’t matter. Managing to look like _that_ when you were almost forty was still something to be admired, no matter how many genetic advantages you had.

She wondered if she was going to get to see them fuck. Considering how the Sith was practically tearing at his lover, who held him down and ground his hips in a tease, she suspected she would. Knowing she should have escaped long ago, she settled down. In for a credit, and all that.

Ven’fir, his cheeks a cute shade of dark green as he flushed with exertion, glared and muttered something mean. Quinn smiled and murmured his own, seemingly happy to play along. He removed himself from his lover, the actions purely functional and with no thought to a potential show he could have given. Instead he tugged at Ven’fir’s hand, muttering promises.

“I’ll make it up to you?” Vette heard him murmur, before he dropped to his knees and looked up at his lover, blue eyes teasing even as he flushed with embarrassment. Vette felt her breath catch. Was he really going to…? Yes, she realised dimly, he really was. Vette had always assumed Quinn to be a sexless creature, awkward and aloof and utterly clueless about anything that wasn’t in the official Imperial field manual.

Seeing him now, on his knees with his legs spread just enough to be enticing, looking up through dark eyelashes with a demure smile and a bitten lip, with one hand absently trailing over his own skin, she knew she would never ever he able to see him that way again.

“You look good on your knees.”  She heard Ven’fir grunt, a smile spreading over his face as he slipped off the bed and landed nimbly on his toes.

The Imperial wrinkled his nose. “You always say that.”

Ven’fir shrugged. “It’s always true.” He said simply, winding a hand in sweat slicked spikes of dark hair, hints of silver at the temples catching the light. The Captain shivered, enjoying the sensation. “You have a very talented mouth, and you look good when you use it on me.”

She saw Quinn flush, red spreading over his cheeks and neck. He glared up at the Sith. “You’re making me regret this.” He muttered, and Ven’fir just grinned, leaning down to kiss him.

“Nah, I know you get off on it.” He mumbled against the human’s skin. “You like the power it gives you.”

The human muttered something unintelligible, chasing the Mirialan’s mouth as he pulled away. Ven’fir shook his head in wonder. “You look so fucking good, I could eat you.” He marvelled, voice gravelly. “You lovely thing. If anyone saw you now, what _would_ they think?” he teased, and Vette swallowed painfully. “Imperial officer on his knees in front of an _alien_ , looking like any beings’ wet dream, about to suck cock like he was made for it.” He breathed, looking like he was getting lost in his own fantasy. Quinn brought his hands up to brush against the green skin of his lover’s stomach, a secretive little smile on his face, despite his flush.

“Sometimes,” he Imperial murmured, “being a perfectionist has its perks, don’t you agree?”

Ven’fir was about to reply when the human moved forward to press his lips to the bulge in front of his face, barely constrained by the soft, elasticated material of the other mans underwear. Looking up through dark lashes, the human kissed and mouthed over his lover in a way that Vette could only think of as wicked. Ven’fir hitched a breath and his whole body shuddered, his hand gripping his lovers’ hair tightening as he let out a long breath that ended in a faint moan.

“Oh y-yeah,” the Sith managed, his eyes alight and watching the demure human in front of him with an awe-struck passion, as though he was having trouble believing the sight was real. He looked half mad. “Fuck, Malavai.” He muttered, biting his lip. “I can’t decide if I want you or I want you to have me when you’re doing that.”

Vette swallowed painfully. She had entertained vague musings about who was ‘on top’ in the odd relationship and had done her fair share of gossiping with the rest of her team. It had seemed a safe bet to assume Quinn was getting screwed into the mattress five nights out of five, even if it didn’t quite click that their subjects were actual people. It had all seemed rather like a holo-drama. Detached. To hear them talk in person though, it made everything seem so much more _real_. The human just hummed as he pressed his mouth to cloth covered flesh, and his fingers gripped the Sith’s hips firmly, blue eyes demure and amused. He was still blushing, as the layer of shyness never truly went away, but none of that seemed to matter right now.

“Whichever you like,” the officer murmured, words slightly muffled. One pale hand played with the waistband of the Siths underwear, and Vette wasn’t sure if she was excited or not. “I would be happy with either.”

Ven’fir gave a full body shudder as the human did something with his mouth. “I’ll bet you would be,” he leered, amused. He hissed as Quinn squeezed just a little too hard. “Touchy.” The Sith muttered.

“I could stop, if you prefer?”

Ven’fir frowned. “Don’t hold sex over me.”

Quinn sat back on his haunches, hands still busy. He looked messy and made for the bedroom. “I think,” he began primly, “I would rather hold something else over you instead.”

Ven’fir’s expression turned shrewd. “Like you?”

The human’s mouth twitched into a small, sly smile, and he tugged at the Sith’s waistband. “Like me,” he agreed, and then there wasn’t much talking at all.

Vette watched, her mouth dry and her mind steadily liquefying, as she saw Darth Venator, Wrath of the Empire, scourge of the Republic and one of the most feared men in the galaxy, completely fall apart under the enthusiastic mouth of his lover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Quinn. Why aren't you fuckable in the expansions?! We can bang Khem Val but we can't bone our hot Imperial DILF?!


End file.
